What She Deserved
by alyssialui
Summary: Draco attends Luna's funeral. sad!Druna. AU. Post-Battle


_A/N: Draco attends Luna's funeral. RxR. FxF._

_Submission for:_

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): **Care of Magical Creatures Assignment #4 - Write about a character that is innocent or pure._

_**Pick a Card, Any Card Challenge: **Four of Spades: write about Luna Lovegood._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

><p>He hangs in the back of the church and out of sight. He knows he would not be welcome here. This is a day for friends and family, those who had shown her love and compassion. This is not for him for he was neither friend or family. He had not shown her love or compassion, though he did feel them for her.<p>

The others wouldn't understand how he could feel for her after what he did to her. He didn't understand it either. But the feelings had washed over him so slowly that before he knew it, he was practically smitten with everything about her.

There wasn't anything he could've done about it anyway. She was a prisoner in his own home simply because was the daughter of someone who wanted to do the right thing by not keeping things in the dark. She was innocent. She was pure. She had done nothing wrong except been born. He laughs. It is the exact thing that others had been persecuted for as well - for simply being born.

Then, he could not show her the love and compassion he felt for her or that she deserved. He was taught to hide emotion, his face always a mask of indifference or scorn, never concern for another. And what good would it have done if he did? They would have both been in trouble, he for giving into his feelings and her for tempting him.

He looks away from those at the front of the church, the small gathering paying their respects. The difference would be that he could sit with them and not back here.

He thinks back to when he would lay awake at night unable to sleep knowing that she was two floors beneath him in the cellar. He thinks back to when he would sit by the warmth of the fire knowing that she was shivering below with a ratty blanket. He thinks back to how he ate dinner, the mountain of food overflowing as she fed on water and stale bread. He could have done something, anything to help her but he didn't.

He rises from the pew before he can even think about it, his legs carrying him to the front of the church and his echoing footsteps alerting the others of his presence. They give him looks of confusion and scorn. He is the man who gave her such pain and sorrow during some of her last moments on earth. He should not be here to mourn her death. He is not worthy to be in her presence.

He knows that but he doesn't care anymore. He wants to finally tell her what he should have told her long ago. He wants to make amends, to repent for his actions and beg forgiveness, even if it may be too late.

He reaches the front of the church and stands before her coffin. All is silent, no motion, no sound. They watch as they wonder what he would do now.

His hands reach out above her body and there is movement to his right. Everyone holds their breath. Will he harm her further, marking her will one final blow?

But he could never do that. His hand ghosts across the smooth flesh of her cheek. He sees how thin she is and knows that he contributed to it by doing nothing.

Tears leak from his eyes. Why hadn't he done something?

Someone stands to his right and he turns ready to take any assault aimed his way. He deserves everything they throw at him. He is the intruder. He shouldn't be here.

It is her father; he knows because the resemblance is uncanny. They share the same nose, eyes, wispy hair and serene expression. He feels the same way he felt whenever she looked at him, a feeling of transparency, all his thoughts, emotions and feelings written down in red ink for her to read at her leisure.

It is a few tense seconds and he wants to step away from the man's piercing gaze. Any moment now the man will strike him and will have to take it in front of all these people.

But instead, the man's hands rise and pull him into a fierce hug. His embrace is warm and full of love and understanding, something she seemed to radiate as well though they had never touched.

The man whispers, "Thank you for coming. She would have liked anyone who cared for her to see her on her way."

The tears fall once more, from both men's eyes. He is shocked at this man's unquestioning acceptance and forgiveness, but also grateful.

The man lets go and signals to the reader to continue. He gestures to a seat in the front row, its occupants also giving him looks of acceptance and understanding. They can see his pain now. He finally breaks his mask to show his true self.

He spares one last glance at her peaceful face, and sees a smile he could have sworn wasn't there before, before taking his seat.


End file.
